To Victor Go The Spoils
by heartsn'minds
Summary: Mystic Falls after the Originals have left is a baron and desolate place. It's the quiet town that it always pretended to be but one lone vampire still lingers there; Damon's been abandoned by everyone he knows. Everything he sees has been tinged in blue; no one knows what he thinks, no one knows why he stayed. You can, if you wish.


Five years. That was the extent of how slowly and mind numbingly painfully time could pass by when one finds all purpose and truth snatched away from their lives - stolen away in the middle of the night, and having the appearance of never having existed the next morning. Little, though, had actually changed within the small town area of Mystic Falls - the residence still retained its air of mystique, of tall Norwegian trees, of gray skies and disarmingly ancient buildings. Of a history so deformed and slight, that its own truth had been boxed away for those with the courage of a lion, the mind of a raven and the sense of a banshee - it was no tale for the faint of heart.

The residents of Mystic Falls, all people of regularity and no imposing secrecy - they were simple minded folk with simple minded purpose, as easily witty as they were to be outwitted. They possessed no specialty which should make them stand out amongst the billions of humans that resided in every other area of the little blue sphere, but rather, they were innocents with little to offer and tales so mundane they were not worth telling.

Rather, five years prior (maybe a few months tacked to that specific time lapse as well) there had been a secret rampage and adventure that only those privileged enough and ranked highly enough could ever hope of observing, knowing or even partaking. When vampires, werewolves, hybrids and witches scattered about Mystic Falls as easily as the common worker, school teacher, student and dog abounds the streets, parking lots, homes and buildings as now; when epic love was a true reality, and when conquests were made daily in the pursuit of madness and twisted hope. But all this had gone as swiftly as the man who imposed it had left - the moment Niklaus Mikaelson left was the moment when everything dried into a shriveled prune, the water of life being sucked away, and everything fell into a bland dullness which no man - human or werewolf or hybrid - could withstand to endure.

He had left out of love, out of pure and true and unrelenting love. The powerful hybrid, the 'big bad wolf' had fallen in love for a bubbly, hopeful and beautifully endearing blonde cheerleading baby vampire by the name of Caroline Forbes - and their love story was tumultuous as all epic loves should go. It was passionate and devastating, filled with betrayal, lust, fear, happiness and hope - the kind of love that leaves the bystander breathless, the kind of love that can only occur in the award winning films of today - the kind of love that is far too pure, too good, too true to ever last (but somehow they'll last). The kind of love that conquered all and lived for an eternity and a day to tell its tale; this was kind of love that exploded between Niklaus Mikaelson and his beloved blonde vampire. To the few who knew, it was an unmistakable love; to them, it was something so strong, so tempered and so destined to last forever that it was something created by Aphrodite, as if to preserve the last drops of true love into two eternal beings that could forever carry it upon them. To show the world of the power and joy the Goddess of Love could bring - to make a dream, a hope - a reality.

She had reciprocated in the end, fallen against the wishes of those around her for the man who was selfish, cold, calculating, cruel, malevolent, bloodthirsty and a powerfully crippling hybrid-that was what he was to the audience about him. And yet, to that ray of life, the wonderful lash of vibrant vitality and joy, the very (and only) thing that could ever bring out his humanity he was tender, loving, passionate, light hearted, seductive, adventurous, promising and all withstanding. They left after their admittance of their love for each other and they took with them not only their abundance of possessions, but they took with them the rest of the life giving Mikaelson's, they took with them every ounce of reviving conquest they had brought and left for the world around them.

For, the eldest had knowledge to spew and more to collect; the troublemaker, Kol - more women to corrupt. The only female, a chance at love with a certain Salvatore she had fallen for in the year 1920; for Niklaus and Caroline, well, he had promised to show her the world…and the world was an awfully big place for incensed fun and memory making.

And what of those who had partook in this screw ball adventure - where did they reside now that the game has been played out? If one would sojourn to the only bar in Mystic Falls (the only well known bar), the Grill, they would see a man there - dark, brooding and exceptionally handsome with a mournful look of regret and pain written upon his countenance. He is Damon Salvatore, the elder brother to Stefan Salvatore, the man who had run off with the glorious Rebekah Mikaelson; he is also the man who had been caught up in the very heart of the little chess game played prior. A lover of another doppelgänger, as if Katerina hadn't been lesson enough, he had pursued with vigor the reincarnated Petrova - the disarmingly innocent one whose honesty was null and void and who's scheming little mind was far darker than anyone gave her acknowledgement for. She had played himself and his brother to the point of exhaustion - to the point where Stefan saw through her and was saved by a demanding blonde Original - he left with a word of warning to Damon, to keep his eyes open and to leave now.

Of course, Damon has always been a glutton for punishment because he, quite simply, could not resist the allure of finally capturing the love of a Petrova doppelgänger. Katerina had chosen Stefan and so had Elena - at first - but now Stefan was gone and it was his chance to make her fall in love with him all over again. He'd ceased to a man anymore - he catered upon this spiteful brunette with every ounce of love in his body; he'd forgone the warnings of the Bennett witch, ignored the wise words of his own brother, turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to the pleadings of the healed Alaric…how could a man so sharp become a puddle of imbecility at the feet of a girl with no depth? It was a question pondered by all those who knew him, for as soon as the window of opportunity opened for her - she ran.

Elena Gilbert had, the next day Damon was informed by Bonnie Bennett, run off with Matt Donovan last night with nothing for Damon other than a good bye note inciting her love for Matt, the quarterback, and wishing Damon well for the rest of his existence. Note, reader, how she did not write 'life' for in her own narcissistic mind, Damon Salvatore had no life without her - had no purpose because she was his purpose - or so she believed. It was what she enjoyed, holding the life and heart of men in the palms of her hands - a zealous little wench she was! And when she had left, she left a broken Salvatore behind with nothing save for his severely bruised pride.

And it was in this manner that he passed each and everyday - holed up at the Grill, ordering copious amounts of alcohol that would have killed any other human but did little for a vampire, other than cause his coordination to falter, his filter to halt and his emotions to run amuck.

The Bennett witch had married (of course she had) to Jeremy Gilbert, baby brother to the cold hearted harem sprite who had destroyed the brotherhood of far too many siblings; Alaric shut himself up and mourned for those he killed. That bastard wolf and former hybrid (who Klaus had changed back, since Tyler's hybrid services were no longer needed) Lockwood, who had run away to the mountains to be alone with his mate, Hayley; occasionally, Damon found himself called upon by Stefan or even Caroline. Stefan would worriedly inquire about his brother's state of self whilst Caroline would tentatively call to ask of his 'holding up'; he rarely bothered picking up the phone anymore. There was no purpose to responding to Stefan for though he knew his brother meant well, his fiancee, Miss Rebekah Mikaelson, would never allow him to journey with them on their travels. She would more than likely snap his head repeatedly before staking him; as for Caroline, hell, he figured, if he so much as made a move towards the blonde baby vampire who he'd once taken advantage of, Hybrid Ken would more than likely inflect more than a few werewolf bites on his arm before desecrating him in broad sunlight. With Caroline in the audience. With a wry smirk, Damon polished off his drink, if Caroline was truly hateful she might even cheer Klaus on in the stands. But no. And Damon winced at this, she would never do that because despite falling and running off with Klaus, Caroline retained who she was - that bright and sunny, happy ray of life and light she was. The most she would do if she saw him again was probably punch him in the shoulder before attempting to ease his mind by offering him tickets to Germany.

He smirked as he allowed his mind to run from the train of thought that was always Elena Gilbert - had he not met her, then he and his brother would be content with their lives. Running the Salvatore Boarding House as brothers, perhaps even meeting a nice girl (and here is where Damon usually chuckled) and getting married. He had no doubt Stefan would eventually stumble upon Rebekah again, after all, Klaus (and all the Mikaelson siblings) usually had this aura about him that was as if he could pick out what he wanted even before he knew he wanted it. He would have dragged his siblings (daggered some, others not) to Mystic Falls, done some havoc and then swept Caroline off her feet again whilst Rebekah and Stefan fell in love all over again…Damon scoffed at the thought; what did love have to do with it anyway?

"Hey, Mr. Salvatore, we're closing up now." A portly bartender of twenty two stated as he waddled his way over to a dazed Damon. "Mr. Salvatore?"

Damon's blue eyes flashed at the unsuspecting and rather fleshy potential victim before slamming down a few bills and knocking back another drink. Walking out of the Grill, Damon felt sick - sick with the fact that he'd drunk so much, and sick with the knowledge that because of another doppelgänger, his life had been screwed over. Again.

He walked down the streets (because he really didn't trust himself with a car these days) and made his way back 'home'. Just like every other resident of Mystic Falls on a dark and gloomy Thursday night.

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**Author's Note: My Damon-centric oneshot. Leave me a review to tell me what you think, thanks!**

**Oh, and who knows why Damon stayed in Mystic Falls? Answer's not very uplifting but...look for it in the story!**


End file.
